


baby, it's cold outside

by neckwear



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Royai - Freeform, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8321506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/pseuds/neckwear
Summary: Riza has demanded that he comes home with her after a long day of nearly falling asleep on the job. He tells her that there’s nothing to worry about, but when they go to get their coats he has a sneezing fit and he can’t deny it for much longer.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearxalchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/gifts).



If there’s a few things Riza hates having to deal with, it’s a sick Roy. 

He’s difficult, not because he is insufferable while sick, asking for too much and being a pain in the neck. Instead, he refuses to be taken care of. He works himself half to death, insisting that he isn’t sick, even as he sneezes into his handkerchief and coughs into his gloved hands. Even if Riza tells him to go home and get some rest, he refuses, overworking and paying the toll for it. 

His latest sickness comes from being in the snow too long. It’s deep in the winter months and when snow falls it ruins his alchemy as much as rain does, and the cold, melted snow soaks into his gloves. Besides, his car doesn’t function as well in the winter, and he’s taken to walking to and from work - it’s no surprise he developed hypothermia. 

Finally, Riza has demanded that he comes home with her after a long day of nearly falling asleep on the job. He tells her that there’s nothing to worry about, but when they go to get their coats he has a sneezing fit and he can’t deny it for much longer. She forces him to follow her home and he shows up at her doorstep with blue fingertips, waving a hello as he tells her he may have tumbled and fell in the iced over sidewalk on the way over. 

Now, he is bundled up in one of her quilts in her bedroom at her request, and she is in the kitchen making soup and tea for the both of them. Hayate found his way into the bed, curled up against his legs, and Roy has begun another one of his coughing fits as Riza comes in with two bowls and cups. She sits on the side of the bed and hands him his bowl, it’s warm enough that for anyone else it would burn their hands, but he is used to fire that it doesn’t affect him. “How do you feel?”

“I’d feel better if you wouldn’t baby me,” he tells her, and sounds like a petulant child. “I’m a grown man, you know.”

“A grown man who doesn’t know when to stop working,” she counters, and he grumbles, eating a spoonful of the soup. Riza gives him a gentle smile, and leans forward to put a hand over his forehead. Her hand is warm to the touch, and his usually hot body feels cold, so it comes as a comfort to him. She tsks, her hand moving to his cheek. He is eating and she scrunches her nose up in frustration, a thing he finds endearing that she only reserves for him. “You’ve got a bad fever. Why’d you go to work?”

“I can’t afford to miss work,” he tells her. Riza knows what he means. His promotion to Fuhrer is looming in the future, as her grandfather has announced his retirement. It’s almost unanimous that Roy will be the next to take over, and that choosing anyone else would be unwise. They have already gone through their trials for their crimes and were found innocent, due to it being the fault of the homunculi, so Roy being the next Fuhrer is practically ensured. Riza says his name gently, and it makes him sigh deeply. 

“You’re worrying for nothing, you know.” She’s started on her own food, scolding Hayate when he sniffs past Roy’s knee towards the bowl she holds in her lap. She lowers her hand, and it moves to grasp his own. “If my grandfather didn’t believe you could do it, he wouldn’t have put so much faith in you all these years.”

“Maybe he would have let me win a few more games of chess,” he remarks, and she lets out a laugh. It’s clear as a bell, and he wants to drown in the noise. 

“He was training you to have resilience,” she says, and it’s his turn to laugh. The moment is so domestic, it causes Riza to consider his offer from before. He had broached the idea of her stepping down, of leaving the military to help him run the country if he gets his promotion (and really, there is no ‘if’ about it, but he must remain humble). She knows what he implied when he brought up the subject - the two of them could marry, and start a family, something she knows he’s always wanted and deep down, she wants it too. She gives him a small smile, flushing at how he’s looking at her. “Really, Roy. Would I have followed you all this way if I didn’t believe in you?”

Hearing her say his name still makes him swoon, after all this time together. “I guess so.” 

“That’s right. You must know I didn’t follow you blindly.” 

Riza is so blunt in her answer that any doubts he may have had evaporates. He hadn’t brought up his offer since the first time, but he knows Riza has considered it, thought of it frequently. He worried she had decided against it, that she wanted to stay in the military - while he supports her either way, he hoped she would come around. Now this, this gives them some kind of chance at a new life together. “Of course.” She gives him another look of concern. Her brows pull in tight and she touches his cheek again. It isn’t to check on his temperature, it’s something more and he sighs. “You’re right. And I’m sick.”

“Ah, so you finally admit it,” she remarks with a bit of sarcasm, and he grins. He shifts his cheek into her hand, closing his eyes for just a moment. Her fingers are calloused but feel gentle on his cheek, even if they scratch at his skin as his head moves to kiss her palm. 

“Thank you,” he tells her, looking sincere, “For taking care of me.”

She nods, a small smile graces her lips and he can’t help but think that she is beautiful. “I’ve done it for so long, it’s like second nature.” 

“You’d be a great mother,” he says, he doesn’t say it as a joke but she lets out a small little laugh. He means it, a tiny pang of sorrow flashes across his chest when he says it, it’s something he’s always believed in. Suddenly, he coughs, and Riza scrambles to grab the tea cup on the bedside table. She hands it to him and he takes a few deep sips, the honey and lemon mixed together soothes his sore throat. She notices his fingers are still tinted a slight shade of blue, he hadn’t been in her home for very long and the effects of the cold weather outside are still taking a toll on him. 

Riza stands up, reaching and taking his cup to refill, but he catches her by the wrist. Her head turns to look down at him and his grip loosens when they make eye contact. “What is it?” she asks. 

“Stay with me,” he says, and keeps his gaze on her. After a look of hesitation, she sighs, setting the cup back down on the table.

“You’ll get me sick, too,” she claims, but moves with him and follows his insistent tugging as he pulls her down into bed. His arms wrap around her middle, and he covers the both of them in her bedding she uses only for the winter. She smells like gunpowder and floral shampoo, of flowers from a land she has never yet been. He could take her, though, if she chose to become his wife, he would take her in a heartbeat if she asked, would rearrange the sky for her if she merely mentioned it. As it is now, she is wrapped in the blanket and his sturdy arms, and despite herself she lets her eyes fall shut.

Roy whispers her name against the shell of her ear, and she shifts, laying on her stomach. His hands sneak up her shirt and cold, blue-stained fingers make her muscles jump as they drag up her warm skin. “Have you thought about it?”

Riza lets out a soft groan, settling deeper into the bed. “Occasionally.”

“And?”

“I haven’t figured it out,” she tells him. “It’s complicated.”

He lets his eyes wander over her for another moment, before not successfully suppressing a small sneeze. Riza’s hand moves to the table and she drags a tissue out of it’s box, passing it over to him without opening an eye. He blows his nose, careful not to do it too close to her. Hayate has rolled up at his legs again, not flinching as Roy starts another sneezing fit. Finally, Riza sighs and sits up, leaning back on her haunches to pick up the tissue box and pull the trash can she had placed next to the bed closer. As he drops his used tissue into the trash can, he apologizes to her. She shakes her head, rubbing her eyes.

“You really are going to get me sick, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, my dear friend Ace had requested a fic where Roy is sick, so here it is! I hope you all enjoyed it - all my fics seem to end up in right before or during Roy's tenure as Fuhrer territory, lol. This fic kind of got away from me but I did have fun writing it regardless. Also the title just seemed appropriate lol.


End file.
